


That Quiet Little Shop on the Corner

by ihnasarima



Series: Little Shop of Plot Bunny Horrors [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihnasarima/pseuds/ihnasarima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now open: Ihna's Little Shop of Plot Bunny Horrors<br/>(Chapters are stand-alone, mostly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darth_stitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/gifts).



Welcome, welcome! Come on in! Beautiful day in there, yeah? Gotta love our indoor world. Wonderful! Glad you could make it.  
Now.  
What can I help you with?  
Ah, your first time, then. Let me 'splain how this works right quick. Or at least how it has in the past... Anyway.

You see, my dear writer, I have been called an **Evil Enabler**. I promise I'm better than that, but. I was working my way through a Fandom, and, once claiming my name in The Archive, began commenting. Not just con-crit, you see, but I also wrote "What if-"s. Three separate writers blamed me for additional plot bunnies joining their already-infested works in progress. My continued responses only encouraged the number of story-infected animals.

At any rate, the idea of being a plot bunny ~~dealer~~ supplier has grown, as the one who called me Enabler has done the same to this endeavor. So now I have this shop.

If you'd like to join this adventure, point me toward your stories and I'll search through the shop to see what may help you out- a word? A phrase? A name? I can certainly call out for a special order if you'd like. I've also done a couple surprise delivery runs...

But yes. All plot bunnies, story-infected rats, talking mice, etc, are up for adoption and on loan unless someone provides a home. Any and all ideas offered are just that, offered, and are in fun or my own opinion. Anything recognizable is belongs to its owner; I am merely playing with their ideas and mixing them with others, for **fun**.

Just like any shopping experience, if nothing says "Take me home!" don't worry. But maybe come back and visit later; your perfect inspiration might just be on back order. Leave me a note if I'm not in, and I'll drop you a line when it arrives.

In the meantime, you can check out a couple sample selections I've put together for the writer to pick and choose and mull over and expand and discard and...well.  
My name's Ihna, and if you'll follow me, we can get started. Right this way, my dear writer...


	2. A curious home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recognize it, it's not mine. I'm probably borrowing it because it's:  
>  a) clever  
>  b) my favorite part of something  
>  c) becoming fanon  
>  d) a recurring reference throughout canon/fanon/my life  
>  e) some combination of these
> 
> If you would like me to cite your inadvertent contributions as credit/a plug to the work it came from, drop me a line and I'll gladly do so.

The ceilings are high enough that the floor is always cool. A few lazy ceiling fans attempt to move the air without dislodging too much dust. There are very few walls where 'wall' can be seen, as bookshelves cover most of the built-in room dividers. Not to say there are only books on them; no. Under the track the bumper-clad ladders run on are all sorts of odds & ends. More tall shelves create aisles, leaving just enough room to slip in front of anyone already browsing.

It all feels of a tiny sense of adventure and a generous helping of curiosity, like many resale/secondhand/antique shops or old bookstores do. There is a vague sense of order around the place, but Inspiration is usually the one to direct customers where to find things. Usually, by simply encouraging them to sit in the spinning chair that's been bolted to the floor in the center of the building. A gentle push, a partial turn; a direction is offered for exploration. Other chairs and stools are tucked throughout the store, in corners and under stacks of books or boxes, (a sign by the door says 'Just move whatever you like') for you to indulge your discoveries in comfort.

Sometimes even I forget just what went where (I once found a little silver otter in a box of handmade scarves, tucked inside a rainbow knit hat). The only things I can reliably keep track of are the first aid kits, and that's because one's next to the front door and the other is under the sink in the loo.

An entire shelf is given to teapots (which may or may not have lids or cozies) and an assortment of cups and saucers. Please leave the green one on the end alone; there's a resident of the shop that considers it his bed. Nearby shelves are stuffed with books labelled Moving Pictures, for sake of our inability to determine between magical pictures and GIFs in book form.

A clothing rack replaces one section of the free-standing shelves. I've noted a surplus of black pants and primary colored tops amidst all of the cloaks and capes and a pair of rather large, torn, purple trousers. Various helmets, hats, boots, and shoes overflow a few bins underneath the fabric.

There's an entire little corner room devoted to Belief. I can understand why the globe covered in peace sign stickers has been there for ages, but the Buddha's ear-hat is a new addition to the religious and spiritual figures residing in this space. A few pocket watches hang by their chains in the east window, alternating with the dreamcatchers, while candles line the sill. Any red yarn that enters the shop also finds its way to this room; sometimes Inspiration ties things together with it. (The stationary ladder hasn't been the same since the toy car was tied to the third rung.)

The rest of the yarn hangs in garden baskets, except for a few particular shades that seem to be turning into blankets or jumpers. This is what happens when the knitters and crocheters come visit, you see. They borrow the needles from the purple vase in the window and the hooks from the blue butter dish next to it and the pattern books from a basket near the loo, and head into the Sanctuary room. They leave the projects or take them, but I see magic happen in the transformation from string to stuff. Which reminds me, I need to host another Bunny Charity night so the Yarnies can come and make bunny rabbit softies and use up the fluff that's forming clouds over the astronomy books. It's become too hard to see the pins in the ceiling there, despite the glow-paint.

The Sanctuary room has, of course, a gathering of armchairs around a cheery little fireplace, the door to the loo, and a south-facing window that peeks out toward the front shop door. A lightly padded bench runs along the window sill (if you pull it out, it's great to lie on for a bit when your back is hurting), and a few mis-matched footstools are tucked together in a sort of padded coffee table. The counter behind the door hides a small fridge below and supports a hot plate above. There are snacks and tea and coffee and that powdered cocoa stuff in the cabinet overhead. You'll have to use the sink in the loo for the kettle; just be sure to wash whichever tea service you decide to use. 

Payment is rendered sometimes in barter, haggling ideas back and forth. Sometimes people bring items in with them, looking for the missing piece, and seeing it become whole is enough. Other times the shop runs on a single "Thank you" for a week, filling in the gaps with bits of story read off of each visitor as they browse. My favorite times are when we have a "take a penny, leave a penny" exchange: some items get left behind in case someone later needs them, as the leaver is taking their own new find with them. It's a beautiful way to watch the world work.


End file.
